


don't just stand there staring honey (try to move your feet)

by pinkgrapefruit



Series: the slowdancing universe [1]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race (US) RPF, RuPaul's Drag Race UK RPF
Genre: ., F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Wedding Fluff, and they were ROOMMATES, awhora being a whiny little baby, entirely fluff and pining, salsa dancing extrordinaire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29093634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkgrapefruit/pseuds/pinkgrapefruit
Summary: Georgie lets out one long sigh and lets her head fall back, dirty blonde hair falling onto the couch. “I. Need. A. Date.” She repeats, exasperated. “My friend is getting married in a few months and I need a date for the wedding.”Tayce raises an eyebrow, repositioning herself on the couch so she can actually look at Georgie. “Georgina Aurora, I’m sure you can find yourself a date,” she smirks, “A’whora.”
Relationships: Tayce/A'whora
Series: the slowdancing universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2162205
Comments: 26
Kudos: 63





	don't just stand there staring honey (try to move your feet)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ortega](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ortega/gifts).



> for my love ortega.
> 
> may our clowning be long and prosperous.

It’s times like this when the flat feels too small. Tayce has just gotten out of the shower, water rolling down her calves as she pads down the hall to her room and she can see Georgie doing her Chloe Ting workout - laptop being played through the TV. She’s wearing these tiny little shorts that leave her surprisingly tan legs on full display and her sports bra can barely be considered a sports bra - it’s a wonder the people in the flat across the street haven’t said something. 

They’d snatched this place up the second it came on the market - the wall of glass windows in the living room making the two-bed London flat feel bigger than it was (at the time at least). It had been the natural progression from their tiny box flat they’d shared for the last three years of uni. 

After living on top of each other for three years, they’d felt like queens in their new place, neither of them sleeping on a pullout sofa bed.

They’d alternated (of course) though Georgie tended to whine if she wasn’t feeling the sofa bed so on occasion they’d both end up in the double bed. By the end, on occasion turned into whenever she was drunk, sad, lonely, uncomfortable, on her period or bored. For all her jokes, Tayce wasn’t really complaining. 

She tears her eyes away from Georgie’s ass and hurries into her room before she soaks the hallway rug, too scared of the blonde’s temper to risk ruining another of her interior design choices.

She presses play on Spotify and lays the towel on her unmade bed, perching carefully on the edge before beginning to moisturise her clean-shaven legs. 

*

_ “I need a date.” _

_ “What?” Tayce yells, eyes fixed on Mortal Kombat but brain anywhere else.  _

_ “I need a date,” Georgie replies, perching on the arm of the sofa and positioning her tennis skirt in a way so as not to show her knickers - she never knows when Tayce’s videogame friends might be able to see her (she once flashed one of them and it’s not something she wants to repeat). _

_ There’s a huff of breath from Tayce before she gives up and stops moving, allowing her opponent to kill her. She sets the PlayStation controller down and faces the blonde, confusion clear on her face. _

_ “I repeat, what?” The softness of her welsh accent slips in at times like this - something that six years of living in London hasn’t quite been able to take away.  _

_ Georgie lets out one long sigh and lets her head fall back, dirty blonde hair falling onto the couch. “I. Need. A. Date.” She repeats, exasperated. “My friend is getting married in a few months and I need a date for the wedding.” _

_ Tayce raises an eyebrow, repositioning herself on the couch so she can actually look at Georgie. “Georgina Aurora, I’m sure you can find yourself a date,” she smirks, “A’whora.” _

_ It’s a joke from uni about Georgie’s innate ability to find the one person in the club who’s only there for a shag (and then go home with them).  _

_ Georgie pouts. She bats her lash extensions and runs a hand through her hair, the other running down her thigh. She knows what she’s doing is flustering Tayce (that’s why she’s doing it) and really tries to play it up.  _

_ “They’ll just want me for sex though,” she whines, “They won’t get me like you.” She bats her lashes one more time and sees the exact moment Tayce melts, a pretty blush finally becoming visible. _

_ “Just for you.” _

_ Georgie cups a hand behind her ear, wincing as if she’s having trouble. “What was that? I didn’t quite hear you,” she jokes and it makes Tayce bat an arm at her. _

_ “I’ll do it for you Brat.” _

_ The blonde bounces up, her tennis skirt flying up to show her lace knickers. “You’re the best!” She squeals before pressing a kiss to Tayce’s cheek, “Veronica will be so happy!” _

_ * _

“Have you finished in the shower?” Georgie calls from the hallway, snapping Tayce back into the moment. 

“Is the shower still going?” Tayce shouts back sardonically and she hears Georgie hit her door on the way past. “Bitch.” She calls out before falling backwards onto her bed. She can see her outfit out of the corner of her eye and it twists her stomach in knots just looking at it. 

It’s pretty simple, grey plaid cigarette trousers - a white shirt with red stitching and a matching suit jacket, but somehow it feels like Chinese handcuffs. 

The telltale clunk of the waterpipes tells her that Georgie’s started her shower and she sits up again, feeling around on her bedside table for her hairbrush.

She goes through the motions of getting ready until Georgie is banging on her door again. She yanks it open, intending to say something cutting or at least sarcastic but she finds that it’s quite difficult to speak when your jaw is on the floor. Her’s certainly is. 

Georgie’s dress is red satin with a sinfully high slit and her lipstick might just be the same shade of crimson currently on Tayce’s own lips. That might just be wishful thinking.

“Wow’” she stutters out, eyes trailing up and down. She gets caught on the wispy hairs that have come undone from Georgia’s chignon and has to catch herself because she wants to wrap it around her tongue and there isn’t enough time to unpack that. 

“Wow, yourself,” Georgie says with a smirk, her tongue darting out between perfectly painted lips. She holds a hand out and Tayce gives her her forearm so she can walk the blonde out of the flat. 

*

They blast Taylor Swift in the car, screaming the lyrics to Out of the Woods while on the A23. Tayce pulls them into the churchyard in Brighton and they both look at the amassing crowd with sighs. 

“Damn baby, it’s like half your high school is here,” jokes Tayce as she touches up her powder in the fold-down mirror of the rental car. 

Georgie smiles softly, “you don’t wanna meet half my high school,” she replies, remembering how she felt in the Nottingham public school system. She’s grateful, in a way, that Veronica's new man is from Brighton so they don’t have to return to her hometown.

Tayce insists on coming round to open her car door and they stand arm in arm in front of the church for a moment before they go in. It’s closer to a cathedral than a church but from what Tayce knows, Veronica’s family could afford that. There’s a welcome sign out the front and it makes them both smile.

“Green and Blacks,” Tayce chuckles, “clever.”

Georgie looks at her and smiles, “Joe owns a coffee bar in Brighton and he hired her to sing one day,” she explains, finding the story sweet despite herself. Tayce gently sets her head on top of Georgie’s.

“Bless 'em,” she hears Tayce murmur. She coughs quickly and they both straighten up. Just as she goes to fiddle with Tayce’s collar she smirks.

“Everyone thinks we’ve been dating for six months,” she whispers, rising up on her toes so her breath brushes Tayce’s ear. 

If Tayce curses, Georgie doesn’t hear it. She’s too busy swinging her hips as she walks away.

*

_ “Tayceeeee,” comes a whine from the bathroom. None of the letters sound quite right but the meaning is there so Tayce puts down her coffee and slides a well-worn bookmark into an equally well-worn copy of pride and prejudice that she pretends she doesn’t read before hauling herself off the sofa in the direction of the bathroom. _

_ “Georginaaaa,” she mocks back once it’s clear that nothing serious is going on.  _

_ Georgie has almost a full face of makeup on, sans lips and eyelashes but she’s still trying her very best to bat what she has. She’s sat on the counter, feet in the sink and toe separators on her feet as she finishes the final coat on her dusty pink toenails.  _

_ “Going out?” Tayce asks, a casual eyebrow raised and a soft smirk playing on her lips.  _

_ Georgie brightens up, “Astina and Bimini invited me out clubbing,” she explains animatedly. “I get to wear that dress I’ve been showing you but I want the rest to be perfect.  _

_ ‘That dress’ in question is a slinky little number that's been on the dress-form in Georgie’s bedroom/office/sewing room/dungeon for months. It’s baby pink and ruched and while Tayce doesn’t know any of the technical terms (she was not in the fashion school, nor does she claim she was) she knows it’s going to look gorgeous.  _

_ “Sounds fun,” she replies, though her tone is questioning and Georgie must pick up on that because she holds out a pair of flash eyelashes and an applicator with a smile. _

_ “Can you put them on for me?”  _

_ They both know very well that Georgie can put on her own lashes - in the depths of the A’whora days, she wore them nearly every day and used to leave the house before Tayce had drunk enough coffee to feel alive. Nevertheless, Tayce leans forward, one hand holding Georgie’s cheek gently so she won’t move her head and the other hovering a lash over her eye. Her thumb strokes the prominent cheekbone under the soft skin and powder and Georgie’s breath flutters over Tayce’s pulse point.  _

_ The moment lasts forever but not quite long enough and Tayce leaves in a hurry, going back to Jane Austen and strong espresso.  _

_ She catches Georgie before she leaves, eyes trailing up and down her body appreciatively, though knowing Georgie likes her bike shorts just as much.  _

_ “For the love of god George please don’t fight anyone in the kebab shop - we’re running out of places,” she scolds, “And don’t get grumpy when you're tired, save that for me - the girls won’t know how to handle you.” She feels like she’s wrapping a child up to send them to school but she just unlocks the door for Georgie and tells her that she’ll wait up.  _

_ Georgie pecks her on the cheek and leaves. Tayce turns the PlayStation on and tries to forget about the blonde in the pink dress grinding against half of London. _

_ * _

Tayce skitters across the gravel until she reaches Georgie, a hand wrapping around the satin covered waist as they queue to enter the church. She takes a deep breath and lets it out through her nose. She’s never been good with surprises.

Georgie notices (she always does), feels Tayce’s fingertips pressing into her ribs and gently removes the arm, intertwining their fingers instead so she can softly brush her thumb up and down Tayce’s hand.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, head falling against Tayce’s chest briefly. Tayce feels her heart rate slow from the contact and sighs, inhaling the scent of Georgie’s conditioner. 

“It’s okay,” She uses her free arm to pat Georgie’s bum, trying to move the blonde along as they near the front of the line into the church.

At the very front of the line, just inside the ornate doors, is an older looking woman with chestnut coloured hair and a lavender chiffon dress. Georgie’s face lights up when she spots her and the woman gives her a motherly smile before embracing the blonde.

“Georgina,” she gushes, “it’s been so long.”

Georgie at least has the propriety to blush and she ducks her head abashedly. “Mrs Green- Margret,” she responds, “I’ve missed you.” 

Mrs Green looks up, spotting Tayce hovering by the door and smiles lovingly, beckoning her over. “And who’s this lovely lady,” she asks Georgie with a bemused chuckle, watching as the girl blushes an even deeper red. 

Tayce sees this as her moment and slides up next to her, hand wrapping around her waist, cheek resting on the top of her head. “I’m Tayce, Georgie’s girlfriend. It’s lovely to meet you Mrs Green and we’re so happy to be here.”

It slips out all too easy and even if she wasn’t prepared for this situation, somehow she is. 

Mrs Green smiles. “Please, call me Margret,” she tells them graciously. “We’ll catch up later Georgina,” she informs them and then points them through another set of double doors.

They seat themselves towards the back of the pews, not wanting to encroach on family seating and Georgie twists her hands together until Tayce takes one of them in her own. 

“Margret was like a mother figure to me,” she explains quietly, thoughtfully, “I feel bad for how out of touch I’ve become.”

Tayce just rubs her back, unsure of what to say. 

*

_ She grew up popular. Her blonde hair was always pin-straight and her eyebrows spent half of high school looking like someone had drawn them on with melted chocolate but that was in vogue.  _

_ People loved her and feared her in half measure and she used it to her advantage, getting what she wanted and feeling like she was part of an American high school movie while she did it. That was until she got too high on her own bullshit. _

_ She forgot she was from Worksop, she forgot she has friends from popularity instead of just her personality and she forgot that not everything always went well for the mean girls in the movies. _

_ She came out. She'd known she was gay since she was in primary school when she used to want to play mummies and daddies and always asked to be the daddy. (Until her best friend Jade told her that girls couldn't be daddies, because daddies couldn't marry other daddies and girls have to marry daddies). _

_ She came out and suddenly her mean girl personality was abrasive and arrogant, and she had to come to terms with who she was all over again. _

_ Then she met Veronica. _

_ Veronica was lovely and sweet and the captain of the theatre club - who wanted Aurora to help with sewing costumes.  _

_ "Call me Georgie," the blonde has said. She'd wanted people to call her Aurora because she wanted to be special and Georgina was too plain. Apparently 'special' meant being called a dyke and losing all your friends though, or so she figured. _

_ Veronica did make her feel special.  _

_ She'd invite her round for tea - to her house on the nicer side of town - where they'd eat freezer waffles and pizza that tasted a little bit like cardboard but also like home. Margret Green would teach her to crochet and help with designs. And slowly, Worksop felt like home again. _

_ And then she met Tayce - and learnt what it truly meant to feel special.  _

  
  


_ * _

The ceremony passes quick enough, Tayce's hand in Georgie's. They only time they let go is when Georgie has to dig around in her purse for a tissue - the wedding not getting to her, but Tayce.

It's a short drive to the gazebo for dinner but they still don't let go of each other's hands, Georgie's wrapped over Tayce's on the gearstick.

They finally let go when they enter the venue for the reception. The ceiling is lit with fairy lights that cast an ethereal glow and there's ivy in the exposed fittings. There are four long tables set up and the seating chart is hell to find but they eventually spot 'Georgie and Tayce' opposite Mrs Green making Georgie blush that they're on the same table as the Bride and Groom.

"I mean I'm honoured," She mutters to Tayce under her breath as they navigate the chairs, "I just didn't realise I meant this much to her and honestly I would have worn a nicer dress."

"Shush you," Tayce replies, pulling a rustic looking chair out for her. She gently pushes it back in, taking her own seat and patting Georgie's thigh comfortingly. "You look hot as shit."

Georgie blushes but suddenly Margret Green sits down and she feels sixteen again. She ducks her head almost shyly and Margret chuckles. 

"I'm not going to tell you and your girlfriend off Georgina," she tells them both, nodding to Tayce who wonders if she might be sweating under the weight of Mrs Green's gaze. Margret never quite stopped calling her her full name - it took long enough to break the habit of calling her Georgina Aurora. Sometimes you have to pick your battles.

"I know Mam," Georgie replies, straightening back up with a smile.

"That's better dear."

  
  


*

They've taken a break from socialisation and are leaning against the bar - the party in full swing behind them. Georgie swirls the stick in her Vodka Cranberry while Tayce leisurely sips on her Mojito. The faintly golden light of the gazebo casts shadows on her face that make her look almost ethereal and Georgie just can't stop looking. 

"You enjoying yourself?" Tayce asks softly, and Georgie blushes under her gaze, nervous she's been caught staring. She taps the stick against the side of her near-empty glass a few times and sighs.

"It's nice," she muses, looking over her shoulder at the rabble. "Weird, but nice." There's an odd tone to her voice and Tayce nods for her to continue, quietly sipping her drink. 

"I guess I'm a little angry," Georgie admits after a short pause. "About why they can all accept you with me now - but they couldn't when I really needed them to." 

Tayce reaches across the gap between the chairs, frowning slightly as she brushes a thumb under Georgie's eye. The pad of it slides along her jaw again before Tayce brings her hand back to her lap and Georgie has to hold back a sigh at the loss.

"I'm sorry baby," she replies, "I know that doesn't help fifteen-year-old Georgie but I really am." Her hand moves back up to cup the blondes Cheek and Georgie brings her own hand up to hold it there. She leans into it, revelling in the warmth. 

"It's okay. Really, it is. I have you now." 

The pad of Tayce's thumb brushes Georgie's painted bottom lip and she may have been leaning in but Georgie suddenly sits bolt upright. Her eyes are wide and Tayce drops her hand reflexively before grabbing the hand in Georgie's lap. 

"Shit," Georgie mumbles, eyes still staring at a figure in a suit a few feet away. She tugs on the hand Tayce is holding and drags her over to the dancefloor.

"That's my ex." She tells Tayce who's just looking at her oddly. "He'll try and hit on me so you," she pats Tayce's chest with a wink," are going to dance with me."

Tayce sighs before smiling at the proposition. "Well it's not exactly Salsa music but I'll give it a go honey."

  
  


*

_ They’re pressed together, chest to chest in the kitchen. As Tayce inhales, chest heaving, it sends vibrations through Georgie’s body.  _

_ Tayce has switched the speaker on out of boredom, dancing around where they used to have a dining table and showing off all her moves. She had gotten bored back in uni and used to frequent the salsa society on her free evenings. They’d all made jokes about it but it’s quite clear that none of her friends had taken it seriously when she sees the awe painted on Georgie’s features. She’d offered a hand and the blonde had taken it, allowing herself to be pulled close as they worked through the basics, rocking back and forth. _

_ She spins Georgie but makes sure to pull her close again as the traditional salsa music finishes and a new song comes on.  _

_ “Don't just stand there staring, honey. Try to move your feet,” Tayce sings along, her voice breathy but it doesn't have to be stronger when her lips are brushing Georgie’s ear. She lets her free hand trace patterns into the parts of the blonde's back not covered by her flimsy crop top. _

_ "I can make it nice and easy," she hums, looking down to see Georgie's eyes are half-lidded, a coy smile playing on her lips. "I'ma take the lead. They ain't even looking at you, baby."  _

_ She drops Georgie but catches her almost immediately - a move that makes the blonde intuitively grip her tighter. _

_ "They're looking at me."  _

_ Georgie locks her eyes on Tayce, not noticing if they drop a bit towards her lips. "Fuck." _

  
  


_ * _

  
  


It may not be a salsa but it turns out that Tayce’s dancing skills don’t just lie in the world of Latin.

She pulls Georgie close to her - as she does whenever she has an excuse - and they sway to the music together. It's reminiscent of the forties - a song for soldiers to dance to with their wives and all the couples are on the floor slow-dancing together.

"Impeccable timing," Tayce whispers in Georgie's ear, enjoying the way she shivers and yet moves even closer into Tayce. She always seems to have her bold moments and then goes back to letting Tayce be the big, strong night in shining armour. 

Not that she minds.

As Georgie is a few inches shorter, she can tuck her head nicely under Tayce's chin and it gives her the perfect vantage point to hear the way Tayce's heartrate seems to be skipping beats.

She lifts her chin, looking up into Tayce's green eyes and seeing them staring straight at her, a soft smile playing on the taller girls lips. 

Tayce gets a funny feeling in her stomach, like she's ingested butterflies and they're trying to get out. Suddenly it all makes sense.

She places a hand under Georgie's chin to hold her gaze and just smiles.

"I love you, you know," she whispers, feeling like the music is all but silent. 

  
  


*

_ They were drunk, hands travelling to places they wouldn't normally dare - Tayce’s fingers trailing the lines of Georgie’s underwear through her dress. _

_ The blonde giggles, hiccuping before hoisting herself up on the kitchen counter and pulling her shoes off. They land somewhere that will undoubtedly be a nuisance later but she’s too gone to care.  _

_ Tayce stands in between her legs, each hand resting on a smooth ivory thigh. “I can’t believe you shouted at that girl,” she says, lips pressing together as if she’s trying to look disapproving.  _

_ Georgie smirks, running a playful finger across the cut of Tayce’s jaw.  _

_ “She was looking at you,” she explains as if that's a perfectly reasonable excuse and it almost makes Tayce chuckle. Instead, the welsh girl mimes biting Georgie’s finger, getting the blonde to laugh. _

_ “She was the kebab girl… The cashier!” She pumps a fist triumphantly at remembering the right word. “She was the cashier. She was meant to look at us.” _

_ “Noooo,” Georgie whines. “You’re not getting it, she was looking at you. Just you.” Tayce quirks her eyebrows, clearly still not getting it and her obliviousness makes Georgie lean forward to rest her forehead on Tayce’s shoulder. A sigh escapes her lips as she wonders if this is how Tayce feels putting up with her. _

_ “She wanted you.” She states as plainly as she can. Her voice drops to just above a whisper, “she wanted you.” _

_ It’s only then that she realises just how close they are - how she can feel Tayce’s hands on her thighs and the smell of daiquiris on her breath.  _

_ Their noses meet before their lips do until Tayce tilts her head just a little bit more and then it feels like something inside Georgie has snapped.  _

_ She pulls away, the back of her head bumping against the kitchen cabinet as she tries to reconcile what she just did with her own feelings.  _

_ It was good, too good, and it scared the living daylights out of her. _

_ She slides sideways off the counter, leaving Tayce standing there - her dumb drunk face frozen in confusion.  _

*

Georgie's eyes widen and then she shuts them, taking a deep breath. When they open again, tayce is still looking at her - though some of the sparkle in her eyes has dimmed and she suddenly feels the need to put all of it back.

She leans up, lets their lips brush against each other in a chaste kiss to test the waters but before she can pull away, Tayce has her bottom lip between her own.

She's sure they're being stared at but she can't bring herself to care because she's at a wedding and somehow she's kissing the prettiest woman in the room.

Georgie finally pulls away, lips slightly swollen and lipstick smudging at the edges. her eyes are wet but they're so bright.

"I love you too," she murmurs, " you fucking twat."

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @pink-grapefruit-cafe and please tell me what you think! <3


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